


Safe

by frankcastlesfemfeb (Deathtouch)



Series: M i n e [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 1890s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Biting, Crossdressing, F/F, Femslash February, Horror, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sexual Content, Vampire Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 04:28:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9701603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathtouch/pseuds/frankcastlesfemfeb
Summary: Femfeb 2017 | Shortfic1890s vampire au; lena hears someone calling her name in the dark





	

**Author's Note:**

> i watched two seasons of penny dreadful instead of actually researching for this so my apologies for the historical inaccuracies.  
> unbeta'd! all mistakes are my own.

" _Lena_."    


Tracer nearly stumbled, tripping over the cobblestones. She skidded to a stop half past the tobacconist's shop, heart thudding in her chest. She could swear on her life that she had heard her name. Her real name.

It was impossibly dark on this side of the city. The gas lamps hadn't reached this district yet. The moon above was the only light and tonight it was blotted out by black clouds and thick fog. She couldn't even see her reflection in the nearby shop window despite it only being a few feet away.

Tracer usually tore through the city streets with such ease. The back allies were her home. She braved the slums from Clerkenwell in central London to the Devil's Acre near Westminster Abbey and even the depths of depraved Whitechapel. Moonless nights, lurking threats and the reports of carnage in the papers didn't frighten her.

Hearing her name frightened her. Had she really heard it? She was sure she had. It had been clear as a bell. Someone had called to her; a woman with a warm voice.

Tracer glanced about the street. She knew this neighborhood. She knew the tobacconist's shop and the butcher's at the end of the block and the boarding house teaming with Irish Immigrants on the opposite side of the road. In the dark she couldn't see much, but she didn't notice anything out of place. There were scarcely any people out this time of night, if any. The fog that had come rolling through early this evening had not dissipated either and it did nothing to encourage midnight strolls. There was nothing and no one who could have called her name.

Trace drew in a breath, cautiously toeing passed the shopfront to peer into the pitch black alley beside it. There wasn't anything sinister afoot. She did notice the feint smell of something floral like Jasmine, a pleasant change from the rot of garbage and waste that usually filled the air.

She skipped passed the narrow side street and went on her way, darting down the lane in a hurry. She gripped the paper wrapped packed in her hands that much tighter when she set off again. The parcel she was carrying had to be delivered by midnight and she had no time to waste with phantom noises.

It was thankless work being a courier. She was called upon at all hours and sent racing through the city every which way. She had to trade her attire for men's clothes, bracers and breeches, and go by a different name just to get the job but she knew she was lucky to have employment at all at a time like this.

Tracer nearly ran passed the parcel's destination; an apartment cleverly tucked away above a jewelry store. She found the front door and wrapped on it with her knuckles.

" _ Lena _ ."

Tracer turned sharply, staring into the darkness over her shoulder. Her heart thudded hard in her chest. There was no mistaking it. She had absolutely heard her name.

"Who's there?" Lena asked the pitch black night.

The night did not answer but the jewelry shop door did pop open. It startled her so much she nearly shouted. With wide doe eyes she clutched her chest in one hand. It was only the tenant in his night attire, spectacles perched on the curve of his nose.

Tracer tugged her cap down to hide her soft face. In a deepened voice she confirmed his identity before delivering his package and wishing him a good evening. It was her last job for the night. After this she could retire to her one bedroom lodging in the boarding house of her choice down by the river Thames.

She had to double back the way she came. Nerves prickled over her skin, turning it to goose flesh as she passed the butcher's and neared the tobacco shop. She slowed as she reached the alley. She knew the darkness could not hurt her but that didn't stop the funny feeling that came over her as she approached.

Peering readily into the pitch blackness she crossed in front of the alley.

" _ Lena _ ."

For a girl who ran for a living she seemingly froze when it mattered. As they had before, her feet failed her again. She did not trip this time but stopped dead in her tracks. She watched in rising horror as a figure emerged from the black of night. Tracer expected a monster, a ghost, a phantom... it was only a woman.

Not any woman, a beautiful woman with long black hair dressed in the traditional clothing of her country. Tracer didn't know it well enough to place it. India, if she had to guess. The garments were red silk embroidered in intricate black designs that rivaled the color of the starless sky.

Tracer found her voice too late. "Was that you calling a name?" She asked softly, forgetting to feign masculinity with her tone.

"Yes," the woman told her. "Your name."

The panic that should have been there wasn't. The scent of jasmine calmed her. Tracer noticed the fine points of this woman's canine teeth, sharp and dangerous. The red of her eyes did not escape notice either. All things that should terrify her, none more so than her identity being known.

"That's not-" Tracer's whisper fell away before she finished her thought. She found herself drawn forward step by short step. Into the black alley they disappeared together. The quiet of London at night faded into ringing silence.

"No need to lie to me, girl."

Tracer's heart swelled in her chest. She saw this woman's hand rising, reaching out for her. Her touch was curiously cool where it graced over Tracer's chin and down to the high collar of her shirt.

"I know the truth of it, beneath your cap and clothes. That which lies within. Come to me, Lena. Let me see."

Tracer found herself moving to obey. Her carefully guarded secret fell apart in seconds as she unknotted the ascot at her neck. Readily she undressed, unbuttoning her sack coat and the shirt underneath. Without understanding any of her actions she then offered up the curve of her neck.

It struck her, for a flash of a moment, how inexplicable this all was. Then the scent of jasmine soothed her and cool lips touched her neck. Tracer willingly gave her body over. She gazed up between the brick buildings on either side of her to the black night sky above.

Something sharp grazed her neck. Arms wrapped around the thin of her waist. She found herself being pulled tight to the woman in red, an utterly comforting gesture. Pain made her cry out gently as her flesh was pierced; it had to be those sharp teeth.

The hurt ebbed away as soon as it happened. Warmth radiated from her neck. It tingled through her chest and into each one of her limbs. A pleasure like she had never known overcame her. It welled up between her legs, a wave of euphoria that made her moan. Her back arched, her own body curving towards the one in front of her.

"Yes," the woman's voice spoke. Satya was her name. Tracer knew it the way she knew the sky was blue and the heavens were endless. Her cold lips brushed gently over the marks on Tracer's throat.

"From the east end, a little girl running laps around all the boys, scoffing at beaded blouses and curled hair." There was no way she could know these things and yet she knew them. Her voice divided into two whispers, then a dozen, then hundreds curling around them like fog. "Safer to travel in these clothes at first. Then a necessity for employment, to be able to walk the streets unmolested, to feel safe. Be not afraid, Lena. I have you now. You are safe with me."

Tracer wasn't afraid. She couldn't even fathom the emotion. She melted into Satya's arms as her throat was kissed again. There was no pain this time, only heat and pleasure and the hint of an orgasm burning between her thighs.

"I have you," Satya clutched her and kissed her. Her lips did not move and she did not draw away to speak but Tracer could still hear her voice clearly.

_ You are safe, Lena. _

_ You are mine. _

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! feel free to comment if u like!
> 
> i'm accepting prompts and suggestions for femslash february all year round. drop'em [here](http://deathtouch.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> also, please check out my [2017 femslash masterpost](http://deathtouch.tumblr.com/post/156687675803) on tumblr :) 
> 
> [tumblr](http://deathtouch.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/deathtouchxx)


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